


LMBTtPL: Salvus

by Raberba girl (Raberba_girl)



Series: Promised Land AU [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cor Leonis is Prompto Argentum's Parent, Don’t copy to another site, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Gen, MT Prompto Argentum, Minor proofreading we have a brush with death like mne, Prompto Argentum Is a Sweetheart, Rough Draft, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23319187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raberba_girl/pseuds/Raberba%20girl
Summary: Clarus is not happy with the king's new stalker. Regis decides to clear things up once and for all. Prompto is called in to translate.
Relationships: Clarus Amicitia & Regis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum & Cor Leonis, Prompto Argentum & Magitek Trooper, Regis Lucis Caelum & Magitek Trooper
Series: Promised Land AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676959
Comments: 42
Kudos: 170





	1. Part 1

_Leading My Brothers To the Promised Land: Salvus_

A Final Fantasy XV fanfic by Raberba girl

Part 1 (rough draft)

****If you paid money to read this work of fanfiction, that means it was stolen and reposted without the author's knowledge or consent. Please do not support apps or web sites that repost without permission and/or illegally profit off of other people's work.**

AO3 summary: Clarus is not happy with the king's new stalker. Regis decides to clear things up once and for all. Prompto is called in to translate.

WP summary: Regis's level three.

**A/N: The trigger warning is spoilery, so I put it at the end.**

**This story is also full of spoilers for the Promised Land AU in general. (Which, ftr, was inspired by lithos_saeculum's _Poor Wayfaring Stranger_.) I really shouldn't have posted it yet, but I finished the first half and couldn't help myself, so I'm throwing it out there. **Those who want a more ideal reading experience probably ought to wait to read this until after I've finished the main Promised Land story.

o.o.o

Clarus is the first one to notice.

The rescued MTs tend to stare at Regis, anyway, but there's one in particular, a level three, whose gaze on the king is always particularly intense. Clarus doesn't like it.

Regis doesn't come into much contact with the older MTs, but whenever he does, it's always the same one who fixates on him: 05953165. He hasn't been claimed by anyone yet, and Clarus makes sure there are specific orders regarding his shock collar, that any permission to remove it must come directly from him or Regis, no one else.

He attempts to question 3165 about the matter. "What are your feelings regarding Regis Lucis Caelum?"

"I have no feelings."

Clarus briefly closes his eyes in exasperation. "Regis is the king," he explains, remembering those ridiculous early interrogations of Prompto. "The supreme commander of Lucis. What are your feelings toward him?"

There's a pause, and Clarus grits his teeth.

"MT units are not permitted to have feelings."

Clarus takes this to mean that 3165 has feelings but doesn't want to admit to them for fear of getting in trouble. "Do you wish that King Regis would come to harm?"

"No."

Clarus considers this. Though the MTs will lie to save their own skins if they believe themselves or their brothers to be in danger of 'correction,' they tend to be extremely truthful otherwise. He needs to word his questions more carefully. "Why do you stare at him so intently whenever you see him?"

The MT's eyes widen a little in what seems, oddly, like genuine surprise. "Yes, sir."

Clarus is confused. MTs are _exasperating_ when they're still early in their rehabilitation. "What are you agreeing to?"

A surprised blink. "To not stare intently at the supreme commander."

For Astrals' _sake_.... "What I want to know is _why_ you stare at him. What is your interest in the king?"

"I'm...waiting to be summoned."

"...You're waiting to be summoned by the king?"

"Yes."

"The king isn't going to summon you."

There's a long pause, and the MT's shoulders relax minutely. "Yes, sir," he finally says.

Has this entire thing been simple nerves about potentially meeting the most important person in the kingdom? "I have no intention of ever letting you near His Majesty. The king," Clarus remembers to clarify.

"Thank you, sir."

Clarus briefly touches a hand to his own forehead, feeling like a fool. "You're dismissed."

3165 gets up and leaves, and Clarus mistakenly thinks that's the end of it.

o.o.o

3165 is staring again.

Regis is enjoying some rare time with his son, the two of them talking animatedly as they stroll together on their way to the training yard. They're accompanied by Gladio and his wards, Cor, Prompto, and that other level two who seems to believe he's Prompto's conjoined twin. They're all passing the MT barracks at the moment, and 3165 is pressed up against a window, staring at the king _again_.

Clarus grits his teeth, moving the unnamed unit's designation back near the top of his Watch List.

o.o.o

Regis is in the middle of a meeting with the Minister of Education when an agitated-looking Crownsguard slips in and gestures urgently at Clarus. Clarus meets Regis's eyes briefly with a reassuring nod - _'I'll take care of it; carry on,'_ \- and follows the guard out into the waiting room.

3165 is standing there with a grim, determined expression that Clarus does not like _at all_. The MT doesn't seem to care about either his personal guard, who's ready to activate the shock collar at any moment, or the ring of tense Crownsguard around him, all with drawn weapons.

"What do you want?" Clarus demands harshly, understanding the situation at a glance. 3165 must have come here of his own accord to see the king, ignoring all attempts at dissuasion.

"The supreme commander needs me."

"He does not. You need to leave."

The MT's hands tighten into fists, and the Crownsguard bristle in readiness.

"The level twos are...unsuitable. I can obey orders better than they can."

Clarus blinks, a bit thrown. "What do the level twos have to do with anything?"

"...He was...interested in them. But they are...unsuitable. I am suitable. I can do it better. The supreme commander needs me, not them." There's sweat standing on his skin, and his gaze is so intent that it makes Clarus's skin prickle. 3165 takes a step closer, and one of the guards grabs his arm to restrain him. Clarus tenses, but 3165 doesn't react to the grip. "Not them," the MT repeats in a whisper. Then, after a pause, "Please."

"...I don't know what you're talking about," Clarus finally says, "but the king is very busy today and he's not going to see any MTs at all, of any level. You need to leave immediately. If you won't go willingly, you will be removed by force."

There's a long pause. At last, 3165 takes a step back. Then another. Though the Crownsguard remain alert, the weapons lower slightly.

"When he's ready," 3165 says, "it should be me. I did it before. I know my orders." Then he turns and walks away, and several of the guards exhale audibly in relief.

Clarus slips back into the king's office and resumes his post, standing rather closer to his liege than necessary. Regis spares him a glance, but doesn't question him until the meeting ends and the minister leaves. For a moment, the two old friends are alone. "What was all that about?" Regis asks.

"That damn MT," Clarus says tightly, "3165. He's got his eye on you again. Marched right up to the door, going on about how you 'need' him and he can follow some unspecified orders better than the level twos can." He shakes his head, remembering that the last time 3165 must have seen the king with any MTs would have been that moment by the barracks. "I thought he wanted to avoid you, but now it seems he's jealous of Prompto and the others."

Regis sighs. "When's my next availability?"

Clarus stares at him. "Regis, I highly suggest you _avoid_ the magitek trooper who's been inappropriately obsessed with you."

"I'll have guards, and he obviously has some business with me," Regis points out. "Do you think you're not a match for one teenager, Clarus?"

"Regis, please," Clarus sighs. "You don't have any obligation to him."

"Of course I do, Clarus. He's one of my subjects."

Clarus wants to argue, but knows he can't without degrading Prompto and the other, less troublesome MT refugees.

"At least have him write a letter to air his grievance," Regis suggests. "I can certainly do that much for him."

"Fine."

o.o.o

Clarus doesn't read the letter before delivery, though he does check it for dangerous substances even though he's been assured that the MT was watched while he composed it. Regis opens the letter, frowns, then hands it to Clarus.

It reads:

_Supreme Commander, I am MT unit_ _05953165_ _. I was given the same assignment for the previous supreme commander, and I performed adequately. I can obey better than level twos can. I can obey better than all the other MT units at this facility. I won't fail like they will, so it is logical that I should be chosen._

That's it. There's nothing else on either side of the page. "This explains _nothing_."

"Clarus," Regis says wearily, "schedule an appointment. He's going to drive you mad if we don't get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later."

"I'm going overkill with the guards, so no complaints."

"I expected as much, old friend."

o.o.o

As soon as the previous appointment leaves, ten Crownsguard file in and position themselves around the office, with Clarus and Cor flanking the king. Clarus waits until everyone is ready, then signals. 3165 enters the room with three more guards, his personal detail ready with the shock collar controller.

3165 stops in front of the desk at an adequate distance, stands at attention, and says nothing.

After a long pause, Regis finally says in a tone much more gracious than Clarus thinks his stalker deserves, "Hello, young man. I understand you wish to speak to me."

3165 cocks his head slightly. "What should I say?"

Cor closes his eyes in experienced exasperation. Clarus feels like doing the same.

Regis remains as polite as ever. "Whatever you've been wanting to say to me."

"I don't want to say anything to you."

"Kid," Cor cuts in, "Clarus says you came marching up here a week ago to see the king, so you obviously want _something_ from him. Now you've got him. A thirty-minute window's-- a thirty-minute appointment's been created just for you, so here's your chance. What do you want?"

"I don't want anything."

"Oh, for the love of-- I'm calling Prompto," Cor mutters, pulling his phone out as he veers away, "we need a translator...."

As he ambles off into a corner to talk to his son, Regis tries again. "Young man," he says, "we are under the impression that you have some sort of interest in me. For example, you watch me more than your brothers do, and you seem to be jealous of the younger ones, like Prompto, who have more occasion than you do to speak to me. It seemed prudent to give you a chance to explain yourself and clear up any misunderstanding."

3165 says nothing. His gaze is calm, a little wary but with none of the usual intensity.

Regis draws in a breath and lets it out again slowly. Not for the first time, Clarus admires his friend's patience when dealing with difficult people. "What have you been waiting for?"

"For you to summon me."

"Well, as you can see, I have now summoned you."

3165's stance breaks, his expression resigned. "Yes," he agrees, and then proceeds to strip.

It's so completely unexpected that everyone's frozen in shock for a moment. Cor, turning for his next round of pacing, is the first to react, bursting out "What the _hell_?!"

3165 glances at him, but doesn't pause. Shirtless now, he tugs off his first boot and reaches to unlace the second.

"Stop!" Clarus bursts out, echoed by Cor's "Fuck; _stop_ , kid," as he hurries to grab the MT's arm.

3165 pauses uncertainly, then looks at Regis.

The king's voice is faint with shock. "My boy, what are you _doing_?"

"You...summoned me." Lavender eyes glance around the office. "There's no bed...."

"Get out," Cor suddenly snaps at the wavering Crownsguard, still holding onto 3165's arm. "All of you, get out."

There's a pause, but both Regis and Clarus gesture to confirm the order, and the guards slowly leave the trio of old friends to deal with the young MT on their own. "Six, put your shirt back on," Cor barks out.

3165 looks at Regis, who says, "Yes, please," in a pained voice. The MT obeys - slowly, because his hands are now shaking.

Clarus realizes that he might have made some very mistaken assumptions.

"Sit down, kid," Cor orders, and helps 3165 into a nearby chair. The MT squeezes his hands together on his lap and looks frightened now, his eyes unfocused. "Hey. Listen," Cor says, obviously making an effort to soften his tone. "You're not in trouble, okay? No one's going to hurt you. You hear me?"

"Yes," 3165 says faintly.

"Okay. Why did you think Regis summoned you here? What did you think he was going to do to you?" He has the same dread on his face that Regis does, that Clarus can feel twisting in his gut.

"My orders...."

"What were your orders?"

"To - come with them. And get in the car. So I did."

" 'They' who? Here in Lucis? Or back in Niflheim? Niflheim's where you came from, with the snow."

"In...Niflheim. I got in the car."

"Then what happened?"

"We went-- It was dark. We drove. And there was...a building. They told me to get out, so I got out."

There's a long pause. "And?"

"There weren't anymore orders."

Cor briefly brings up his hand and growls his frustration into it.

"You mentioned a bed," Clarus says.

3165 starts to tremble. "Yes. There was a bed in the room. He pushed me onto it after my clothes were off."

"Who pushed you onto it?"

"...Your Imperial Majesty."

There's a long silence. "By 'Imperial Majesty,' I presume you mean Emperor Aldercapt?" Regis says tightly.

3165 tenses in the way Clarus has learned means an MT doesn't know the answer to a question but is terrified to admit it.

"Emperor Aldercapt's the supreme commander of Niflheim," Cor explains, unable to keep his voice from snapping.

"Yes. The supreme commander...of Niflheim. It was his bed."

It makes sense that anyone with evil appetites would find MTs easy prey, but: "What was Aldercapt doing at an MT training facility?" Clarus demands.

"He...watched while we demonstrated our abilities. He watched all of us, but I was the only one they took to...the room with the bed." He swallows and adds in a choked voice, "I performed adequately. He was very pleased, so I can - do it, I can do it, you don't need the level twos, they'll do it wrong but I--"

" _Fuck_ , kid, no one's touching the twos," Cor snarls, and 3165 flinches. Cor attempts to gentle his voice again as he adds, "We don't do that here. No one's going to hurt you like that again, you hear me? If anyone tries, I'll kill them myself."

3165 stares at him.

"What he means," Regis says gently, "is that what was done to you was a despicable violation, and there are laws against that here. It's illegal for anyone to be subjected to...sexual advances without their consent, or if they're below the age of consent, which you were."

"It's a basic human right," Clarus adds. "Even if a country's laws fail to reflect that, the mere fact that you're a human being means that rape - what he did to you - is wrong."

There's a ringing silence as 3165 stares at them all, his face white as a sheet. When he finally speaks, he sounds like he's having to explain to grown men that two plus two equals four. "I'm not a human being."

"Fuck," Cor bursts out, scrubbing his fingers through his hair in agitation, "he doesn't even know what sex is, either; _fuck_ , not this again...."

There's a quiet knock on the door. "What is it?" Regis calls, his voice a little unsteady.

A Crownsguard tentatively pokes her head in. "Prompto's here."

"Send him in," Regis says quickly, and Clarus has never before been so relieved to see the little freckled, fluffy-headed figure with his outrageously colorful clothes.

Cor's on his feet immediately, striding over to wrap his arms around his son. Prompto, looking pleasantly confused, hugs him back. They stand there for a moment, then Cor presses a kiss to his hair and partially releases him, keeping an arm around his shoulders.

Prompto takes in the scene as they approach, and his eyes widen when he sees the other MT. He pulls away and trots over to 3165. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

Prompto looks at the king and his Shield. "Hi."

"Hello, Prompto," Regis answers, affectionate and sad. "We could use your help as a mediator."

"What does 'mediator' mean?"

"Means you need to speak MT for us," Cor grunts as he pulls up a chair and drops into it. His face softens as he looks at Prompto. Clarus still marvels at the way fatherhood has changed his old friend - before Prompto, he'd never thought Cor Leonis could even be capable of such open tenderness. "Hey, kiddo...I know you don't like talking about it, but...you remember that asshole in the green jacket?"

Prompto suddenly stills. "Yes," he says woodenly.

"Yeah, well...same thing happened to this kid. Except...worse. What happened to you was shit, okay? It was...like that, but it-- lasted longer, and it hurt a lot." He glances at 3165. "Right?"

"Yes," the MT whispers.

"But we don't know how to explain it to him because he doesn't think he's human."

Prompto's face shifts, and there's something heartbreakingly beautiful about the compassion that fills his eyes, the protective way he steps forward and rests a hand on the older MT's shoulder.

3165 lifts his face and gazes up at him, the blank MT facade dissolving into something pleading and desperate. Prompto says nothing for a while, his hand drifting up to slowly ruffle his brother's hair in what he's learned is an affectionate gesture.

"I had...orders," 3165 finally whispers, still gazing at Prompto.

Prompto's voice is equally low, but calm and assured. "There are some things that humans aren't allowed to do to MT units."

3165's eyes widen. "Who...doesn't allow them?"

Prompto's palm rests gently over his brother's heart. "Have you seen how the sky changes, even though no one tells it to?"

"Yes. It changes because Eos rotates, and clouds shift in the atmosphere," 3165 recites dutifully.

"Yes. And you've seen the plants grow, and the trees? And the animals walking and flying and eating and growing?"

"Yes."

"Who tells them to do those things?"

"I don't know."

"It's not humans. Plants and animals do those things on their own, because they're alive. Eos isn't alive, but it still rotates on its own. No one tells it to do that. No one tells the clouds to move or the sun to shine. But they do anyway."

There's a long, processing silence.

"Things happen," Prompto eventually says. "Even if humans don't tell them to. Things...are things. Some of them are because humans make them. Some of them aren't. That means there are some things that are... _more_ , than humans." He pauses again. 3165's eyes are wide, his breathing harsh, as he digests this.

"There are some things that humans are not allowed to do to MT units," Prompto says again. "What he did to you was wrong."

After a while, tears start to well up in 3165's eyes and spill down his cheeks. "It hurt," he whimpers.

Prompto starts to cry, too. "Yes," he whispers, leaning to touch his forehead to his brother's. "But you're safe now. We won't let anyone hurt you like that again. You're safe."

"I'm-- I'm m-mal...functioning...!" He flinches when Cor rests a hand on his back.

"No," Prompto murmurs, hugging him now. "You're not malfunctioning. Your orders are to cry. Cry until the tears stop coming."

3165 breaks down sobbing uncontrollably, and Regis's eyes are glassy as he brings a shaky hand up to his mouth and stares out the window. Clarus goes to instruct the Crownsguard outside to delay the next appointment if necessary. He fetches a bottle of cold water from behind the desk, then sits by Regis to wait.

3165 weeps for a long time. When he finally stops, Prompto takes the water bottle Clarus holds out to him and brings it to 3165, who sips at it mechanically at first, then drains the rest in a few desperate gulps. When he finishes, Cor takes the empty bottle out of his hands and sets it aside. Prompto sits down on 3165's other side, and the older MT sits there miserably with Cor's arm around his shoulders and Prompto's around his waist.

"Do you feel a little better?" Regis finally asks.

"I don't know what my orders are," 3165 murmurs, sounding defeated.

"You don't have any orders right now," Regis says. "I think you should go rest, and I'll make another appointment to see you again if you want to finish this conversation. I have no intention of hurting you the way Aldercapt did, or letting anyone else do so, and you are not obligated to meet with me again if you don't want to. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," 3165 says dully, and Prompto gently bumps his head against the other MT's.

"Come on, kid," Cor says. "Prompto, help me with him." They get 3165 to his feet and support him as they lead him out.

Regis looks exhausted, but his schedule's full and he's already late for the next appointment. Still, Clarus waits to let them in until his king has succeeded in composing himself. "Ready?"

"That poor boy..." Regis sighs, then straightens his shoulders, types out a quick note, and nods. "Ready."

TBC

**Trigger warning: There's no detailed description, but one of the characters (no one named in canon) was raped in the past, an experience that drives the plot of this chapter and is eventually revealed to and addressed by the other characters. There is also mention made of the molestation incident in _Poor Wayfaring Stranger_.**

I knew from the start that I wanted Regis to adopt a level three (seemed like they'd have the best dynamic), but Clarus was so protective that I couldn't figure out how Regis might develop a close enough relationship with a three where that could happen. I finally settled on this as the only scenario that would work. This first half was about how they meet and catch each other's attention; the next will be how their friendship develops.

(Ftr, in PWS, Prompto is a level two and is either 14 or 15 years old; Ignis was described as a level three and is 17, so that's why I have the level threes as teenagers even though they're older than the twos.)


	2. Part 2

_**Leading My Brothers To the Promised Land: Salvus** _   
**A Final Fantasy XV fanfic by Raberba girl**   
**Part 2 (rough draft)**

Although all the MT refugees have been getting group therapy from the start, 3165's revelation warrants additional solo sessions for him, and Regis makes a point to arrange that as soon as possible.

He knows that confidentiality bars him from learning specifics, but he can't help asking after 3165 anyway, pestering the therapist for any general information she can share about the young man's overall mood and progress.

His heart sinks a bit at the suggestion that 3165 would benefit from having a dedicated caretaker, since the older MTs have been much more difficult to adopt out than the younger ones. Ignis and the others do their best, but they all already have their own charges to look after, and Regis is pretty sure that letting 3165 tag along after the others out of pity wasn't exactly what his therapist had in mind.

He's relieved when 3165 never cancels their follow-up appointment, and the king finds himself rather looking forward to it, for his own peace of mind if nothing else. When the MT is finally ushered into his office again, he's accompanied by his usual guard and there are a couple of extra Crownsguard in the room to back up Clarus, but it's nowhere near the overkill security they had for the level three's first appointment with the king.

3165 seems more subdued this time. Like before, he enters the room and stands silently before the desk, but his body language is softer and more uncertain now, his eyes downcast. He doesn't say anything this time, either.

"Hello again, young man," Regis says, now feeling a little uncertain himself.

"Hello, sir," 3165 murmurs.

There's a pause, then Regis suggests, "Why don't you sit down."

The MT obeys immediately. Regis and even the Crownsguard stare for a moment, taken aback. "Er...I meant in a chair."

3165 looks at the nearest chair, stands up again, and sits on it.

After another pause, Regis tries, "Would you like me to send the Crownsguard away?"

For the first time, 3165's eyes flicker up to him in surprise. The MT glances at the Crownsguard and says nothing. Regis gestures, and the guards leave the room.

Even now that he's alone with only the king and his Shield, 3165 still doesn't speak.

"Was there anything you wanted to say to me now that you've got the chance?" Regis asks. "Now that you've had some time to rest and reflect?"

"No, sir," 3165 says in the same soft tone. He's not really showing anything in his expression or body language. There's a sense of waiting, perhaps, but nothing more than that.

"I see."

While Regis is trying to figure out where to go from here, 3165 finally offers, "Prompto said that his dad is not having sex with him."

Regis stares, completely caught off guard. "Did you...think they were in that sort of relationship?"

"He touched his head with his mouth. But Prompto said they weren't having sex. And the one with the calm voice said that it's called 'kiss' and it can be 'platonic.' Sometimes it isn't, like what the other supreme commander did to me. But sometimes it is. Prompto said that his dad is always platonic to him. So his dad isn't hurting him."

Regis's stomach is twisting. "Cor would never hurt anyone like that."

"Yes, sir."

There's another long silence. Regis is rather desperate to fill it, to get that vile suggestion about one of his dearest friends out of his head. Since 3165 doesn't seem to have any plans for this meeting, Regis reaches for the deck of cards in his desk, thinking to pass the time with a game. Only once he's opened the box and started pulling out the cards does he remember that the MTs are no longer master players. It's too late now, though; 3165's eyes are already fixed on the deck.

"Would you...like to play?" Regis offers diffidently. "Or would you like to help me sort out the deck?"

3165 swallows. "How...does it need to be sorted?"

"How about by color first?" Regis offers. "I'll take the black ones if you take the red."

"And then suits?"

"If you'd like. Don't worry about it if you don't want to."

3165 scoots closer and slowly starts picking red cards out from the pile. Regis matches his careful pace, and they spend a few minutes working in comfortable silence. 3165 splits his cards into hearts and diamonds, so Regis divides his into suits as well.

The MT soon slows even more, frowning thoughtfully at the cards. His lips move, then he hesitantly shuffles through his cards and holds a two and a three of hearts close together. Slowly, he searches until he finds the four of hearts. After a moment, something seems to ignite in his expression, and he begins searching with more determination.

At last, he's got all the numbered hearts and diamonds stacked neatly in order, and he suddenly looks up to Regis a little anxiously.

The king smiles in approval, genuinely proud. "You did a wonderful job sorting those, young man."

"I...I remember the numbers," 3165 says softly. "I don't-- But...." He spreads the stack and gently touches the pips on the nine of diamonds. "The numbers go...in order. I remember now." He looks unhappily at the face cards nearby. "Those don't have numbers.... But the king is the supreme commander, and...the queen comes next, and then...the jack?"

"That's right."

"So...." Hesitantly, 3165 slips the face cards in order with their numbered companions, then looks to Regis again.

"Very good."

3165 relaxes. "Do you need help?" he asks, gesturing at the half-sorted black cards.

Regis hides a smile. "I would appreciate it."

3165 finishes sorting and combines all the suits into a single stack, with the black cards on top. After a moment of consideration, he places one joker on top of the deck and the other joker on the bottom. He looks at Regis once again.

"You did an excellent job," the king praises.

3165 offers a shy smile in response, and it's one of the loveliest things Regis has seen in a long time.

"Well, I'm afraid we've run out of time, but I quite enjoyed this meeting." 3165 continues to gaze at him. "Would you like to take these cards with you, young man?"

3165 stares at him in surprise, then at the cards.

"Please feel free to keep them. I can get more easily, and they might be of use to you if you ever get bored in the barracks."

3165 glances at him, then hesitantly tucks the cards into the box and cradles it in his hands. "I should take these?"

"If you like."

3165 looks down at the box. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ , young man. I look forward to seeing you again sometime."

There's another long pause. 3165 doesn't seem to realize that a small smile is playing around his mouth as he watches the king.

"You're dismissed," Clarus hints.

The MT stands up and walks out of the room, still carefully holding the deck of cards.

Regis exhales, wishing all his meetings were that relaxing.

o.o.o

Although Regis still thinks about 3165 often, he isn't really expecting to see the MT again in any significant capacity. He is quite surprised when he takes a break to rest during his walk in the gardens and realizes that a level three is standing just down the path, staring at him.

He isn't sure it's 3165, but he has a feeling. The intent stare is familiar, though the young man's gaze is more benign now than it was before the unfortunate misunderstanding was cleared up. Regis makes a point not to stare back, but after a moment, the MT approaches and stands right in front of him.

"Hello," Regis says. The young man's guard stands quietly by, but the king is pleased to see that the shock collar has been removed at last.

"Hello," the teen replies.

"I see you're enjoying a walk in the gardens. They really are quite beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes."

After a while, Regis pats the bench next to him. "Would you like to sit down? You don't have to if it would make you uncomfortable."

The MT sits down and continues to stare at the king's leg. Regis sneaks a glance at the barcode and confirms that his young companion is indeed 3165.

The staring goes on for so long that Regis finally offers, "I need to rest rather frequently. Between old battle wounds and sustaining the Wall, I'm afraid I'm not as spry as I was in my youth."

3165 finally meets his eyes. "Battle wounds?"

"Yes." Regis opens his mouth to explain more, but then closes it again without speaking. He doesn't like to think of that disastrous experience in Accordo. Finally he says instead, "You look well, young man. How have you been liking your therapy sessions?"

3165 hesitates. "When...the one with the one with the calm voice talks to me...?"

"Yes. Has it been helpful?"

"Yes," 3165 says decisively. "She explains things. It's good."

"I'm glad." They're silent for a while, this time both of them contemplating the lush vegetation around them.

3165 suddenly turns back to him and asks, "Is it permitted to ask questions?"

"Yes, of course."

"Did your MTs perform poorly?"

"...What MTs?"

"Your...your MTs. The ones who failed to protect you."

"I'm - not sure what you mean. There were no MTs in Lucis - none on our side, anyway - before Prompto came to us."

3165 stares at him. "No MTs?"

"We don't use MTs in Lucis. You and your brothers are refugees, not soldiers."

3165 is silent for a long time. At last he says, "If I was in your army during that battle, I wouldn't have let you be wounded."

Regis smiles sadly. "You are very kind, young man, but that particular battle took place long before you were born. There's nothing you could have done. I had the best soldiers a man could ask for fighting at my side; there's nothing anyone could have done." Besides, the Wall would have sapped his strength anyway, whether he'd been injured to begin with or not....

After a while, 3165 says, "You're very different than the other supreme commander."

"I should hope so."

After a while, Regis asks, "Which flower is your favorite?"

3165 looks at him with wide eyes. "Favorite?"

"Yes. I'm simply curious. Do you like any flower better than the others?"

3165 looks out at the gardens. "They're all beautiful."

"Yes, they are," Regis says thoughtfully. He smiles. "You and your brothers all have a delightful ability to remind us of life's simple joys. It's quite refreshing."

"Oh." 3165 glances out at the flowers, then back at the king.

After a while, the aide standing a few steps away politely clears her throat, and Regis sighs. "Time to get back to work, I see," he says, levering himself back to his feet. He looks at 3165, who stares back at him. "I wonder, young man, if you would be interested in writing to me every so often."

"Writing?"

"Yes. I'm afraid I'm kept quite busy and have far less time than I'd like to meet with...friends. But if you ever feel like contacting me, or if you wish to request a meeting...." He glances at his aide. "Would you be so kind as to give this young man my phone number?" He's not entirely sure what his own phone number is.

Clarus clears his throat. "We'll have to go through special channels. The MTs' devices are restricted."

"Ah. I trust you'll take care of it, then."

"Certainly, Sire."

Regis smiles at 3165. "Thank you for taking the time to speak to me. I enjoyed it."

"Oh," 3165 responds, looking confused.

Regis nods to him and goes on his way.

o.o.o

3165 texts Regis far more than his own son does. The very first message is: _Supreme Commander, the plant is still healthy. I showed the insect eggs to Prompto when he came to visit, and he showed me how to remove them. The plant does not seem to be damaged._

Regis smiles and returns his attention to the currently droning council member. As soon as the meeting is over, he texts back, _I'm glad to hear it. You're doing a very fine job, young man._

After a while, he receives another message: _I wonder why you call me young man instead of my designation._

_Well, to my knowledge, you have not chosen a name yet. It seems inappropriate to address you with a number. There's no rush to choose a name, however. Take all the time you need to choose one you like._

It's not until the next morning that he receives a reply: _My orders are to choose a name?_

_Not exactly. It's simply my preference that you choose a name for yourself._

An hour and a half later, 3165 asks, _What is the time limit for choosing a name?_

_There is no time limit. Would you like assistance in choosing your name, or would you like to consider it on your own?_

_I wonder if it's permitted for a human to assign me a name._

Regis smiles sadly. _Why don't I send you a list of names to consider?_

_Yes, please._

Regis asks one of his secretaries for help, and eventually a list of names and their meanings is compiled and emailed to the young MT. After several days, Regis wakes up to the following message: _MTs are safe in Lucis._

Regis does not know quite what to make of this message. He eventually texts back, _I'm glad you feel safe._

_Yes. I feel safe._

He doesn't understand until the next time he addresses 3165 as 'young man,' and the MT texts back, _I'm sorry it was wrong._

Regis blinks in surprise and confusion. _What was wrong?_

_The name. I'm sorry._

Regis looks back over the messages until he finally realizes what happened and wants to kick himself. _Salvus?_ he asks. _Was that the name you picked?_ It's the Old Lucian word for 'safe.'

_I'm sorry it was wrong. I'm very sorry._

_It wasn't wrong. I was simply confused, but I think I understand now. I'm sorry I didn't realize that you had picked Salvus as your name. Please let me know if I've misunderstood again._

The answer is a long time coming, but at last, the young man asks, _Is it permitted for me to be named Salvus?_

_Yes, of course._

_Thank you._

_You're very welcome, Salvus._

The next message Regis receives is a long string of happy face emoji, and the sight makes him smile.

TBC

A/N: I'm inching forward on _Gifts From the Sea_ and have been trying to get back into the headspace to continue _[Shelter]_ , but my muse is all "PROMISED LAND AU" right now. X''D Turns out that the story of Regis and his level three will be longer than I anticipated, but I do have the full outline hashed out now, so between that and the inspiration and all this lovely time off work, I should hopefully be able to finish it soon.

The thing about the MTs' mathematical elements is a theory I have about the future of PWS, but even though people can probably guess, I'll still wait to clarify it here until PWS either confirms or disproves my theory.

I don't actually know how Regis (or Noctis, for that matter) hurt his leg in canon.... Was it a battle injury, a weakness from fueling the Wall, something else, or never specified?? (Is Noct's leg injury from the marilith attack, or something different?)


End file.
